A Daughter's Lust, Revealed

With that thought, it was too late. He felt his cock swell in his hand, the skin growing more taught, as the cum filled his cock and strained to break free. He let out a long, loud animal groan, grasping at and losing any conscious thoughts of doing anything further, anything other than coming at that moment. He watched with a feeling of elation and freedom as the cum burst from the tip of his cock, spraying drops across his daughter's tits. Large drops pooled on her hard nipples, dripping down the curves of her breasts. One blast shot up to her collar bone, under her neck, regrettably not nearly close enough to her beautiful mouth.

Amy stopped squirming then. Instead she arched her back, thrusting her tits at him, trying to make certain that every drop hit her. She squealed and laughed as he came on her.

"Oh, God, yes, Daddy. Yes, lover, yes, cover me, cover my tits. Come for me some more. Keep coming. Please."

Don felt a wave of instant guilt overwhelm him. It came on him totally unexpectedly. What had he just done? Why had he done it? This should never have happened. He should have had more control than this. It was all insane. He was using his own beautiful daughter, instead of protecting her as he should.

She looked up into his eyes then. He felt a sudden warmth flood through him as he looked into her beautiful green eyes, and she looked back at him lovingly, and smiled. It washed all of his guilt away in a sea of love.

"You're a nasty man, Daddy. You came on your little girl. I wanted you to fuck me, but you didn't. Now I'll have to wait. Selfish."

Don didn't answer her. He slouched back onto his heels, torn between the conflicting, powerful, tugging emotions of guilt and love, then reached forward to brush some loose locks of hair from his daughter's innocent face. Her hair had scattered all about in her throes of lust. He took his time arranging her hair. Whenever his hand came near her face, Amy closed her eyes, purred and pressed her cheek against him. He rewarded her with one soft, slow caress along the ridge of her chin, before backing off to stand on the floor.

"Your turn," he told her, untying just her right hand, after which he retreated further away to sit on the edge of the bed to watch her make herself come, while watching him. Her hand snaked along her body, slipping easily into her golden hole, where it started to play. It didn't take long for her to climax, but once it started it seemed to last for hours. She stared harshly at him the whole time.

* * *

When Don stepped out of Amy's apartment, he closed the door behind him and quickly leaned against the hallway wall, letting out a long, deep breath.

They must be crazy, he thought. They must be positively crazy. He must be crazy.

He should feel more guilty, he thought. He should be wracked by guilt, swearing to never let that happen again. In fact, he should reprimand her. He should sit her down, apologize, but then scold her and warn her that she needed to stop it, that she was behaving like a slut. She should tell him that this was going to destroy their relationship, and he loved her, and he needed to always, always be a father to her, not a lover.

And yet, while his mind went over all of this, as each thought passed in turn, he didn't feel any of it. He didn't quite feel the guilt.

He felt inexplicably happy.

He thought briefly about Sara, his daughter's near twin, back at the bar. He mentally shrugged her off. Don returned to his own apartment grinning. There was no way he was wasting a night with a stranger after this.

* * *

The next day Amy called to tell him her sink was still broken, that he hadn't done a thorough enough job fixing it. He grinned into the phone as he asked when he should come over.

"Now."

Don couldn't hang up the phone fast enough.

* * *

As he stepped around the corner, he was shocked to see Amy tied this time standing up, spread-eagled against her bedroom door. The door was closed, and the colored pantyhose, red, blue, yellow, purple, looped up over and down under the corners of the door, with ends tied to her wrists and ankles, pinning her in place like the beautiful assistant that serves as a horrifying target in a circus knife throwing act. Further pairs of colored hose, green and pink and white, ran in bands across her body, holding her more tightly against the door. This time she could barely move.

She wore her red corset, garters and stockings for him, the same ones she'd modeled before him for that fool Matt. Her hair was tousled into her face, as if she'd been struggling with whoever had tied her up.

Before anything else, Don went carefully about making sure that all of her bonds were tightened further, before he got too close. She had left some of them lose, so he tightened them all thoroughly.

"Did you think you'd get free?" he asked. "Did you think you could trick me?"

Amy watched him in angry silence the whole time, until he finished, stepping back to admire his work, and her.

Don looked, really looked, at his daughter's full, naked form for he realized the very first time in his life. Her body screamed sex at him. It screamed and shrieked and begged for him to take her. She wasn't just female, she was achingly female. The large, firm tits. The curving spread of her hips narrowing into a trim waist. A tight, inexperienced cunt that still must know exactly what it wanted, and how to return the favor. The sweetly innocent, yet whorish face.

Her whole body screamed "whore" to him, inexperienced, yet willing whore.

Don mentally slapped himself at the thought. He slapped himself for thinking of his own daughter as a whore. She was so much more, so much better than that. But here she was, tied up for him, displaying herself to him, offering herself to him. She was the world's most perfect and desirable whore. And he was her father.

"What are you going to do with me, Daddy?"

"With you?"

"To me. What are you going to do to me?"

"Whatever I want, Princess."

"Nothing naughty. You're my daddy. There are a lot of things you can't do."

"I'll do whatever I want, Amy."

"No, Daddy. Not whatever you want."

"Whatever I want."

She wanted it too, he realized. He should be fighting this. He should be resisting it, for her sake. She couldn't. She wanted him to take her. She need him to be her father, though, and to resist it for her.

He couldn't, entirely. He had to maintain control, he had to remain her father, but he couldn't leave her like this. He couldn't hold back. He'd fight it. He wouldn't fuck her. But he had to satisfy her, and himself, somehow, in some way.

With that he stepped forward, easing his cheek right beside hers. He inhaled, long and loudly, taking in the scent of her perfume and her hair. This time he relished it. He let his nose trace the lines of her temple, and chin, and neck and then shoulder, enjoying her scent the whole time. When his head reached her shoulder, he planted one very light, almost imperceptible kiss there.

"Don't kiss me, Daddy. You can't kiss your little girl, not like that."

Don glared at her, then kissed her shoulder again. He repeated his feather light kisses, over and over again, always in a slightly different spot. He covered her shoulder, then worked his way up her constricted arm until he neared the yellow stocking binding it to the door at the wrist. When he'd gone as far as he could he kissed his way back down to her shoulder, to work his way up her neck from there. She turned her head away, as she might from a rapist, but exposing more of her flesh for him to kiss.

"Stop it, Daddy. It's wrong. You're my father. My daddy."

He worked his way around her neck, covering it with kisses. He worked his way over her entire throat, then to the edge of her chin, then up her cheek. His kisses rained on her face, working their way closer and closer to her lips.

* * *

As his lips neared hers, Amy froze. She desperately wanted to move, to bring her lips to touch his. Amy ached to kiss her darling, sexy father. But she wanted to kiss him right, and she wanted him to kiss her right, or rather, wrong. She wanted him to kiss her passionately. She wanted their first kiss to be amazing.

She knew that he would be warm and tender, that his lips and tongue would invite her in and encompass hers completely. She knew that she would let him into her mouth, and he would come, patiently, but forcefully and in control. Her father was always in control, and she could trust him with that control.

But she was afraid that if she forced it, and he pulled away, she would ruin everything, so she stayed utterly, completely still, waiting and hoping for his lips to continue where she wished.

Her father explored her face with his soft, warm lips. He dabbed kisses on her nose, her chin, her cheeks, her eyelids. He explored her brow, then traced a path between her eyes down the bridge of her nose to its tip. There he stopped.

Amy opened her eyes, not even remembering having closed them, to see her father's face in hers, close, staring at her intently. He moved his lips ever nearer to hers, until they were a hair's width away. She felt his warm, moist breaths on her mouth, one, two, three in a row.

* * *

Her lips looked so luscious. Her mouth was wide, wider than his. Her lips were full, and moist, mostly from licking them in fits of lust. They were slightly pursed, and slightly parted, inviting him, calling him, and waiting for him.

"What do you want me to do, Amy?"

"Do whatever you want. I can't stop you."

Their lips were so close, she said the words straight into his mouth.

"But what do you want?"

"I want whatever you want, Daddy. Take whatever you want."

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

"Yes."

"Say it. Say you want me to kiss you."

Don breathed the words onto her lips, then waited to feel her breathe her answer onto his.

"I want you to kiss me."

"I'm your father, Amy."

"I want my father to kiss me. My daddy. Kiss me hard, Daddy. Kiss me. Kiss me hard and take whatever else you want."

He was so close. She was so close. The slightest move would press their lips together and end his torment, and hers.

Don held himself in check. He longed to kiss her, with a passion that he'd never shown any other woman. Something odd stopped him, though, something other than his own guilt, which still bubbled inside of him, covered and contained but never forgotten.

He hesitated. It wasn't that it felt wrong. It felt too good to be wrong. Inside it felt right. But it didn't seem like it was time, or rather, it didn't seem like this was the way their first kiss should be, with her bound barbarously to a door, subject to his every whim, even if she was asking for it.

Don kissed her chin just below the lips, before working his way quickly back down to her neck with a flurry of light kisses. Amy let out a soft, high pitched whine, a clear expression of her disappointment. Don smiled to himself at her torment.

He let his lips wander down to her collar bone, then further down her chest. She inhaled deeply and loudly as his kisses approached her breasts. When his lips neared one exquisite mound he let a long, hot, heavy breath touch her, but he didn't kiss her there.

* * *

Amy held her breath. Her entire body stiffened, waiting for the touch of her father's lips on the starving flesh of her breast. The kisses were so light they were almost imperceptible. His lips were warm and soft, and torturously gentle. They'd missed her own lips, they were impossibly ghostly kisses on the rest of her flesh, but she could endure that and more if he kissed her breasts, if he would only kiss her foolishly forbidden breasts.

Amy screamed inside her head as his lips passed, so close yet not close enough, over the curve of her tit. He breathed heavily, noisily on her skin, and on her nipple, as he drifted over her. She whimpered delicately as she sensed that familiar wet warmth spreading and growing throughout her pussy, bought to life by denying her everything she wanted.

* * *

Don fought with himself, fought the urge to kiss at least the flesh around her nipple. Once he passed over her magnificent breast, to the ribs beneath, he let the feather kisses resume. Amy exhaled sharply when he did, clearly agitated that he'd skipped kissing at the best part, or at least what Don thought was her best part. More than any other part of her body, and he loved it all, he loved her breasts.

"Don't kiss my tits, Daddy. Remember, I'm your princess, your little girl. Don't kiss my tits."

Don laughed softly at her, then remorsefully continued down her belly. He should have let himself do it, he thought. Enough was enough. He should do it. Cross the line. Commit, no, enjoy incest.

Instead he explored her belly button for a while, giving it several kisses. He briefly, and very, very gently, flicked his tongue into it, like a tiny cock invading a tiny cunt, before moving on. His lips kissed their way over the ridge of her pelvis, to the side of her thigh. From his knees, he looked up into her eyes, as his lips worked their way over the top of her leg toward her pubic hair.

Amy stared at him intently, clearly waiting to see if he would continue. He calmly, mischievously stared back.

"Not my pussy, daddy. Don't kiss your daughter's pussy. Don't."

Don smiled at her wickedly, having totally lost himself in his lust, then detoured down the inside of her thigh, planting hundreds of barely perceptible kisses on her, always avoiding what she really wanted. He avoided kissing utterly improper parts of her. It still wasn't incest, he thought. These were kisses that, taken one of a time, were perfectly appropriate and acceptable for a father to give his daughter.

It was just that she was wearing lingerie, and bound to a door, and he was giving her not one fatherly kiss, but thousands. And his cock was harder than it had ever been in his life. His cock was begging him to stop playing games. It was almost ordering him to stop playing games. He needed to give it what it wanted, and what he knew Amy wanted as well.

Don let his lips wander so close to her cunt. He moved his face closer, right before her, inhaling loudly while grinning up at her anguished expression. He even let his lips wander through the ends of her pubic hair, letting them tickle his lips, and letting her feel just how close he really was. When he did so, it was her turn to inhale loudly, followed by a tortured moan.

Don spent an eternity teasing her, kissing almost every conceivable part of her body, except for her breasts, and pussy, and ass, and her own beautiful, full, wide, tempting lips. He was her father. He couldn't go there, but he knew how to give a woman, even his daughter, pleasure by refusing to give her what she wanted.

* * *

The torment was absolutely killing her. Amy started to writhe again in her bonds, this time not as a show for her daddy, but because she was truly trying to break free. The feel of his hot lips just barely touching her skin was killing her. The way he maneuvered near but then stayed away from the most sensitive parts of her body was agonizing. She had been sure that this time he would give in, that he'd finally surrender and take her, giving her what she knew they both wanted and needed.

Reverse psychology wasn't working. Her pleas for him to stay away hadn't lured him in. She abandoned any thought of ploys and manipulation for sheer, unrestrained, passionate candor.

"Damn it, Daddy, fuck me. Fuck me now, Daddy. Stop it. Stop teasing me and fuck me."

Amy shocked herself at the strength of the emotion in her voice. She glared down at her father, who was grinning masterfully as he worked his way back up her body, lingering on her belly, moving ever closer to her breasts or her crotch, only to suddenly reverse and wander elsewhere.

"Do it, Daddy. No one will know. I won't tell. I can't stop you. Fuck me. Fuck your daughter."

He laughed coarsely at her. He stood up, stepped back and grinned at her yet again.

"My cunt is so wet, Daddy. Touch it and see. It's wet for you. It's wet for my strong, darling, sexy daddy."

Amy stared down in delight and triumph as her daddy, once again, began to undo his belt.

* * *

Don couldn't believe the look of uncontrollable lust on Amy's face as he removed his pants, letting her once again see what she'd done to his cock. He stood naked in front of her for a while, waiting for her to start whimpering in frustration. It didn't take long. Her eyes darted between his own eyes and his cock.

"Oh, please, Daddy. Don't stand there. Please fuck me. Please."

Don looked somberly at her. He wanted so much to fulfill her wishes.

"Is that what you want, Princess? You want your daddy's cock in your pussy?"

"Yes."

"What if I don't want to?"

A look of panic flooded into her face before she recovered enough to smile at him.

"I know you do. I know you want it. It's yours, Daddy. My pussy is yours, right now, if you take it right now. Your baby girl's pussy is yours. I'm giving it to you."

Don stepped up to her, just inches away. Her head lunged at him, viciously trying to kiss his lips, forcing him to reflexively jerk back, laughing as he did.

"Daddy!"

He eased to the side, out of her reach, so she couldn't try again. She pulled down on the bonds over her head, stretching them some. She looked up at the purple one on her right wrist, the one most carelessly tied as she wriggled her arm, trying frantically to find a way out. When that failed, she fruitlessly looked at each of the other bonds, looking despondently for any mistake Don might have made in securing her.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, as he rubbed his cock lightly against her side, just above her hip.

Amy's eyes grew wide as she realized what he'd done, that her father had touched her with his cock.

"More, Daddy. That, and more."

Don touched her side again with his cock, then pressed it firmly against her. She let out a low moan, at first closing her eyes, then snapping them open to look down at it pressed into her skin. He couldn't believe he'd let himself do this. He was crossing the line, not completely, but too much. She trusted him. He shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't stop.

"Like this, Amy?"

"Yes. No, no, not like that. In me, Daddy. Put it in me."

She moved her eyes frantically, searching his face for some hint of weakness, while letting her own expression continue to plead with him.

Don ignored her. Instead he closed his eyes, losing himself in the feel of his cock brushing against his daughter's warm, yielding flesh. He rubbed it back and forth, and up and down, against her. He moved over to her belly, rubbing it there. She looked at him lovingly, and he stared back into her eyes with the same expression.

He couldn't fuck her. She was his daughter, and he could never, ever fuck her, not ever. He needed to be a father to her. He needed to protect her. She trusted him, and he couldn't violate that trust.

But he had to do this. He couldn't fight it anymore.

"Like this?" he asked her. "You want me to move my cock in you like this?"

"Yes, Daddy. Put it inside me and move it like that, just like that."

Don felt himself building toward orgasm again. He let out a low moan to let Amy know.

* * *

The bastard was going to come without fucking her, Amy thought. She immediately, silently scolded herself for thinking of her father as a bastard. He knew what was best. She wanted him inside her, she wanted it so much, but she trusted him. He knew what was best. He always did. Still, while she desperately wanted to make him come, she needed to end the game now. She needed to have her daddy fuck her.

"Please don't, Daddy. Please, please, fuck your little girl. No one will every know, Daddy. I won't tell. I can't get away, I can't stop you. Please."